 | The Sea Voyage |  |
Actus Primus
Scæna Prima.
A Tempest, Thunder and Lightning.Enter Master and two Saylors.
Master.
Lay her aloofe, the Sea grows dangerous,
How it spits against the clouds, how it capers,
And how the fiery Element frights it back!
There be devils dancing in the aire, I think
I saw a Dolphin hang ith hornes of the moone
Shot from a wave: hey day, hey day,
How she kicks and yerks?
Down with'e main Mast, lay her at hull,
Farle up all her Linnens, and let her ride it out.
1 Saylor.
Sheele never brook it Master.
Shees so deep laden, that sheele buldge;
Master.
Hang her.
Can she not buffet with a storm a little?
How it tosses her! she reeles like a Drunkard.
2 Saylor.
We have discovered the Land Sir,
Pray lets make in, shee's so drunke; else,
She may chance to cast up all her Lading.
1 Saylor.
Sland in, sland in, we are all lost els, lost and perisht.
Master.
Steer her a Star-boord there.
2 Saylor.
Beare in with all the Sayle we can, see Master
See, What a clap of Thunder there is,
What a face of heaven, how dredfully it looks?
Master.
Thou rascall, thou fearfull rogue, thou hast bin praying;
I seet in thy face, thou hast been mumbling,
When we are split you slave; is this a time,
To discourage our friends with your cold orrizons?
Call up the Boatswaine; how it storms; holla.
Boatswain.
What shall we doe Master?
Cast over all her lading? she will not swimme
An houre else;
Enter Albert Franvile La-mure Tibalt de pont. Morillat.
Mast.
The storm is lowd,
We cannot heare one another,
What's the coast?
Boatsw.
We know not yet; shall we make in?
Albert.
What comfort Saylers?
I never saw, since I have known the Sea,
(Which has been this twenty yeers) so rude a tempest.
In what State are we?
Master.
Dangerous enough Captain,
We have sprung five leakes, and no little ones;
Still rage; besides her ribs are open;
Her rudder almost spent; prepare your selves;
And have good courages, death comes but once,
And let him come in all his frights.
Albert.
Is't not possible,
To make in toth' Land? 'tis here before us.
Morill.
Here hard by Sir.
Master.
Death is neerer Gentlemen.
Yet doe not cry, lets dye like men.
Talbat.
Shal's hoyse the Boat out,
Enter Amint.
And goe all at one cast? the more the merrier.
Master.
You are too hasty Mounsieur,
Do ye long to be ith Fish-market before your time?
Hold her up there.
Amint.
O miserable Fortune,
Nothing but horrour sounding in mine eares,
No minute to promise to my frighted soule.
Tibat.
Peace woman,
We ha storms enough already; no more howling.
Amint.
Gentle Master.
Mast.
Clap this woman under hatches.
Alb.
Prethee speake mildly to her.
Amint.
Can no help?
Mast.
None that I know.
Amint.
No promise from your goodnesse?
Mast.
Am I a God? for heavens sake stoaw this woman.
Tilb.
Goe: take your gilt Prayer Booke;
And to your businesse; winck and die,
There an old Haddock stayes for ye.
Amint.
Must I dye here in all the frights, the terrors,
The thousand severall shapes, death triumphes in?
No friend to councell me?
Alb.
Have Peace sweet Mistresse.
Amint.
No kindreds teares upon me? Oh! my country!
No gentle hand to close mine eyes?
Alb.
Be comforted, heaven has the same
Power still, and the same mercy.
Amint.
Oh! that wave will devour me!
Mast.
Carry her down Captaine;
Or by these hands, I'le give no more direction,
Let the Ship sinck or swimme; we ha nere better luck,
When we ha such stoage as these trinkets with us,
These sweet sin-breeders; how can heaven smile on us,
When such a burthen of iniquity
Lies tumbling like a potion in our Ships belly?
Exit.
Tib.
A way with her, and if she have a Prayer;
That's fit for such an houre, let her say't quickly,
And seriously.
Exit.
Alb.
Come, I see it cleer Lady, come in,
And take some comfort. I'le stay with ye.
Amint.
Where should I stay? to what end should I hope,
Am I not circled round with misery?
Confusions in their full heights dwell about me;
O Mounsier Albert, How am I bound to curse ye,
If curses could redeeme me? how to hate ye?
2
Even from their Armes, that were as deere to me,
As day light is, or comfort to the wretched;
You forc't my friends from their peacefull rest,
Some your relentles sword gave their last groanes;
Would I had there been numbred;
And to fortunes never satisfied afflictions,
Ye turn'd my Brother; and those few friends I'd left
Like desperate creatures, to their own feares
And the worlds stubborn pitties: Oh merciles.
Alb.
Sweet Mistresse.
Amint.
And whether they are wandred to avoyd ye,
Or whether dead and no kind earth to cover 'em;
Was this a lovers part? but heaven has found ye,
And in his lowd voyce, his voyce of thunder,
And in the mutiny of his deep wonders,
He tels ye now, ye weepe too late:
Alb.
Let these tears tell how I honour ye;
Ye know deer Lady, since ye were mine,
How truly I have lov'd ye, how sanctimoniously
Observ'd your honour; not one lascivious word,
Not one touch Lady; no, not a hope that might not render me
The unpolluted servant of your Chastity;
For you I put to Sea, to seek your Brother;
Your Captain, yet your slave, that his redemption,
If he be living, where the Sunne has circuit,
May expiate your rigor, and my rashnesse.
Amint.
The Storm grows greater; what shall we do?
Alb.
Let's in;
And aske heavens mercy; my strong mind yet presages,
Through all these dangers, we shall see a day yet
(Exit.
Shall Crown your pious hopes, and my faire wishes.
Enter Master, Saylors, Gentlemen, Boatswayne and Surgeon.
Mast.
It must all over boord.
Boatsw.
It cleers to Sea-ward mast.
Fling o're the lading there, and let's lighten her;
All the meat, and the Cakes, we are all gone else;
That we may finde her Leakes, and hold her up;
Yet save some little Bisket for the Lady,
Till we come to the Land.
La-m.
Must my goods over too?
Why honest Master? here lies all my money;
The money I ha wrackt by usurie,
To buy new Lands and Lordships in new Countryes,
'Cause I was banisht from mine own
I ha been this tweenty yeers a raising it.
Tilb.
Out with it:
The devils are got together by the eares, who shall have it;
And here they quarrell in the clouds.
La-m.
I am undone Sir:
Tib.
And be undone, 'tis better then we perish.
La-m.
O save one Chest of Plate.
Tib.
A way with it, lustily Saylors;
It was some pawne, that he has got unjustly;
Down with it low enough, and let Crabs breed in't;
Mast.
Over with the Truncks too.
Enter Albert.
Alb.
Take mine and spare not;
Mast.
We must over with all.
Fran.
Will ye throw away my Lordship
That I sold, put it into clothes and necessaries,
To goe to Sea with?
Tib.
Over with it; I love to see a Lordship sincke;
Sir you left no Wood upon't to bovy it up;
You might ha sav'd it else.
Fran.
I am undone for ever;
Alb.
Why we are all undone; would you be only happy?
La-m.
Sir you may loose too.
Tib.
Thou liest; I ha nothing but my skinne,
And my Clothes; my sword here, and my self;
Two Crowns in my Pocket; two paire of Cards;
And three false Dice: I can swime like a Fish;
Rascall, nothing to hinder me.
Boatsw.
In with her of all hands.
Mast.
Come gentlemen, come Captain, ye must helpe all;
My life now for the Land,
'Tis high, and rocky, and full of perils;
Alb.
How ever let's attempt it.
Mast.
Then cheer lustily my hearts.
Exit.
Enter Sebastian and Nicusa.
Sebast.
Yes 'tis a Ship, I see it now, a tal Ship;
She has wrought lustily for her deliverance;
Heavens mercy, what a wretched day has here been?
Nicu.
To still and quiet minds, that knew no misery,
It may seeme wretched, but with us 'tis ordinary;
Heaven has no Storm in store, nor earth no terror,
That can seeme new to us.
Sebast.
'Tis true Nicusa; if fortune were determin'd
To be wanton, and would wipe out the stories
Of mens miseries: yet we two living,
We could crosse her purpose; for 'tis impossible
She should cure us, we are so excellent in our afflictions;
It would be more then glory to her blindnes,
And stile her power beyond her pride, to quit us.
Nicusa.
Doe they live still?
Sebast.
Yes, and make to harbour:
Nicu.
Most miserable men; I greive their Fortunes.
Sebast.
How happy had they been, had the Sea cover'd 'em?
They leap from one calamity to another;
Had they been drown'd, they had ended all their sorrows.
What showts of joy they make?
Nicu.
Alas poor wretches, had they but once experience
Of this Island, they'd turn their tunes to waylings;
Sebast.
Nay, to curses.
That ever they set foot on such calamities;
Here's nothing but rocks and barrennes,
Hunger, and cold to eat; here's no Vineyards
To cheere the heart of man, no Christall Rivers
After his labour to refresh his body,
If he be feeble; nothing to restore him,
But heavenly hopes; nature that made those remedies,
Dares not come here, nor looke on our distresses,
For fear she turn wilde like the place and barren.
Nicu.
O Uncle, yet a little memory of what we were,
'Twill be a little comfort in our calamities;
When we were seated in our blessed homes,
How happy in our kindreds, in our families,
In all our Fortunes?
Sebast.
Curse on those French Pirates, that displanted us;
That flung us from that happinesse we found there;
Constrain'd us to Sea, to save our lives, honours and our riches,
Withall we had, our kinsmen and our jewels,
In hope to finde some place free from such robbers,
Where a mighty storme severd our Barkes,
That, where my wife, my daughter
And my noble Ladyes that went with her,
Virgins and loving soules, to scape those Pirates.
Nicus.
They are living yet; such goodnesse cannot perish.
Sebast.
But never to me Cozen;
Never to me againe; what beares their Flag-staves?
Nicu.
The Armes of France sure;
Nay, doe not start, we cannot be more miserable;
Death is a cordial, now, come when it will.
Sebast.
They get to shore a pace, they'le flye as fast
When once they find the place; what's that which swims there?
Ni.
A strong young man Sir, with a handsome woman.
3
Sebast.
That shewes some honour;
May thy brave charity what ere thou art,
Be spoken in a place, that may renown thee,
And not dye here.
Nicasa.
The Boat it seemes turn'd over,
So forced to their shifts, yet all are landed,
They're Pirats on my life.
Sebast.
They will not rob us;
For none will take our misery for riches:
Come Cozen, let's descend and try their pitties;
If we get off, a little hope walkes with us;
If not, we shall but load this wretched Island
With the same shadows still that must grow shorter.
Ex.
Enter Albert, Aminta, Tibalt, Morillat La-mure, Master, Franvile, Surgeon, Saylors.
Tibal.
Wet come a shore my mates, we are safe arrived yet.
Mast.
Thanks to heavens goodnesse, no man lost;
The Ship rides faire to, and her leakes in good plight.
Albert.
The weathers turn'd more courteous;
How does my deere?
Alas, how weake she is and wet?
Amint.
I am glad yet, I scapt with life;
Which certain Noble Captain, next to heavens goodnesse,
I must thanke you for, and which is more,
Acknowledge your deer tendernesse, your firme love
To your unworthy Mistresse, and recant to
(Indeed I must) those harsh opinions,
Those cruell unkind thoughts, I heapt upon ye;
Farther then that, I must forget your Injuries.
So farre I am tyde, and fetred to your service,
Beleeve me I will learne to love.
Albert.
I thank ye Madam,
And it shall be my practise to serve.
What cheere companions?
Tibalt.
No great cheere Sir, a peece of souced Bisket
And halfe a hard egge, for the Sea has taken order;
Being young and strong, we shall not surfet Captaine.
For mine own part, Ile Dance till I'm dry;
Come Surgeon, out with your Glister-pipe,
And stricke a Galliard.
Alb.
What a brave day again;
And what faire weather, after so fowle a storme?
La-mure.
I ant pleas'ed the Master, he might ha seen
This weather, and ha sav'd our goods.
Alb.
Never think on em, we have our lives and healths.
La-m.
I must think on em, and think
'Twas most maliciously done to undoe me.
Fran.
And me to, I lost all;
I hant another shirt to put upon me, nor Clothes
But these poor raggs; I had fifteen faire sutes,
The worst was cut upon Taffaty.
Tib.
I am glad you ha lost, give me thy hand,
Is thy skin whole? art thou not purl'd with scabbs?
No Ancient monuments of madam Venus?
Thou hast a suit then will pose the cunningst Taylor,
That will never turn fashion, nor forsake thee,
Till thy executors the wormes uncase thee,
They take off glorious sutes Franvile: thou art happy,
Thou art delivered of em; here are no Brokers;
No Alchymists to turn 'em into Mettle;
Nor Leather'd Captaine's with Ladies to adore 'em;
Wilt thou see a dogfish rise in one of thy brave doublets,
And tumble like a Tub to make thee merry,
Or an old Haddock rise with thy hatcht sword
Thou payd'st a hundred Crowns for?
A Mermayd in a mantle of your worships,
Or a Dolphin in your double ruffe?
Fran.
Ye are merry, but if I take it thus,
If I be foysted and jeer'd out of my goods.
La-mure.
Nor I, I vow thee.
Nor Master nor mate, I see your cunning,
Alb.
O be not angry Gentlemen.
Moril.
Yes Sir we have reason.
And some friends I can make.
Mast.
What I did Gentlemen, was for the generall safety.
If ye ayme at me, I am not so tame.
Tib.
Pray take my councell Gallants.
Fight not till the Surgeon be well,
Hee's damnable Sea-sick, and may spoyle all;
Besides he has lost his Fidlestick, and the best
Box of Bores grease; why doe you make such faces,
And hand your swords?
Alb.
Who would ye fight with? Gentlemen?
Who has done ye wrong? for shame be better temper'd.
No sooner come to give thankes for our safeties,
But we must raise new civill Broyles amongst us
Inflame those angry powers, to shower new vengeance on us?
What can we expect for these unmanly murmers,
These strong temptations of their holy pitties,
But plagues in another kind, a fuller, so dreadfull,
That the singing stormes are slumbers to it?
Tib.
Be men and rule your minds;
If you will needs fight Gentlemen,
And thinke to raise new riches by your valours,
Have at ye, I have little else to doe now
I have said my Prayers; you say you have lost,
And make your losse your quarrell,
And grumble at my Captaine here, and the Master,
Two worthy persons; indeed too worthy for such rascals,
Thou Galloone gallant, and Mamon you
That build on golden mountaines, thou money Maggot;
Come all draw your swords, ye say ye are miserable.
Alb.
Nay, hold good Tibalt.
Tib.
Captaine, let me correct em;
I'le make ye ten times worse, I will not leave em;
For look ye, fighting is as nourishing to me as eating,
I was born quarrelling.
Mast.
Pray Sir.
Tib.
I will not leave em skins to cover em;
Doe ye grumble; when ye are well ye rogues?
Mast.
Noble Du-pont.
Tib.
Ye have Clothes now: and ye prate.
Amin.
Pray Gentlemen, for my sake be at peace.
La-m.
Let it become me to make all friends.
Fran.
You have stopt our angers Lady.
Alb.
This shewes noble.
Tib.
'Tis well: 'tis very well: there's halfe a Bisket,
Break't amongst ye all, and thank my bounty,
This is clothes & Plate too; come no more quarrelling.
Amin.
But ha! what things are these,
Enter Sebastian and Nicusa.
Are they humane creatures?
Tib.
I have heard of Sea-Calves.
Alb.
They are no shaddows sure, they have Leggs and Armes.
Tilb.
They hang but lightly on though.
Amint.
How they looke, are they mens faces?
Tib.
They have Horse-Tayles growing to em,
Goodly long maines.
Amint.
Alas what sunk eyes they have!
How they are crept in, as if they had been frighted!
Sure they are wretched men.
Tib.
Where are their Wardrobs?
Looke ye Franvile, here are a cople of Courtiers.
Amint.
They kneele, alas poore soules.
4
What are ye? speake; are ye alive,
Or wandring shaddows, that finde no peace on earth,
Till ye reveale some hidden secret?
Sebast.
We are men as you are;
Onely our miseries make us seem Monsters.
If ever pitty dwelt in noble hearts;
Alb.
We understand 'em too: pray marke em Gentlemen;
Sebast,
Or that heaven is plea'sd with human charity;
If ever ye have heard the name of friendship?
Or suffered in your selves, the least afflictions,
Have gentle Fathers that have bred ye tenderly,
And Mothers that have wept for your misfortunes,
Have mercy on our miseries.
Alb.
Stand up wretches;
Speak boldly, and have release;
Nicus.
If ye be Christians,
And by that blesse'd name, bound to releeve us,
Convey us from this Island.
Alb.
Speake; what are ye?
Seb.
As you are, Gentle born; to tell ye more,
Were but to number up our own calamities,
And turn your eyes wild with perpetuall weepings;
These many yeers, in this most wretched Island
We two have liv'd: the scorne and game of fortune;
Blesse your selves from it Noble Gentlemen;
The greatest plagues, that humane nature suffers,
Are seated here, wildnesse, and wants innumerable.
Alb.
How came ye hither?
Nicus.
In a ship, as you do, and as you might have been.
Had not heaven preserv'd ye for some more noble use;
Wrack't desperately; our men, and all consum'd,
But we two; that still live, and spin out
The thin and ragged threds of our misfortunes.
Alb.
Is there no meat above?
Sebast.
Nor meat nor quiet;
No summer here, to promise any thing;
Nor Autume, to make full the reapers hands;
The earth obdurate to the teares of heaven,
Let's nothing shoot but poysoned weeds.
No Rivers, nor no pleasant Groves, no beasts;
All that were made for mans use, flye this desart;
No aëry fowle dares makes his flight over it,
It is so ominous.
Serpents, and ugly things, the shames of nature,
Roots of malignant tastes, foule standing waters;
Sometimes we finde a fulsome Sea-root,
And that's a delicate: a Rat sometimes
And that we hunt like Princes in their pleasure;
And when we take a Toad, we make a Banquet.
Amint.
For heavens sake let's aboord.
Alb.
D'ee know no farther?
Nicusa.
Yes, we have sometimes seen the shaddow of a place inhabited;
And heard the noyse of hunters;
And have attempted to finde it, so far as a River,
Deep, slow, and dangerous, fenced with high Rocks,
We have gone; but not able to atchieve that hazard,
Returne to our old miseries.
If this sad story, may diserve your pitties,
Alb.
Ye shall aboord with us, we will relieve your miseries:
Sebast.
Nor will we be unthankfull for this benefit;
No Gentlemen, wee'le pay for our deliverance;
Look ye that plough the Seas for wealth and pleasures,
That out-runne day and night with your ambitions,
Looke on those heaps, they seeme hard ragged quarries;
Remove 'em, and view 'em fully.
Mast.
O heaven, they are Gold and Jewels.
Sebast.
Be not too hasty, here lies another heape.
Morill.
And here another
All perfect gold.
Alb.
Stand farther off, you must not be your own carvers;
La-m.
We have shares, and deep ones;
Fran.
Yes Sir, wee'le maintain't: ho fellow Saylors.
La-m.
Stand all to your freedomes;
I'le have all this.
Fran.
And I this.
Tib.
You shall be hang'd first.
La-m.
My losses shall be made good.
Fran.
So shall mine, or with my sword I'le do't;
All that will share with us, assist us.
Tib.
Captain let's set in.
Alb.
This money will undoe us, undoe us all:
Sebast.
This Gold was the overthrow of my happines;
I had command too, when I landed here,
And lead young, high, and noble spirits under me,
This cursed Gold entising 'em, they set upon their Captain,
On me that ow'nd this wealth, & this poor Gentleman,
Gave us no few wounds, forc'd us from our own;
And then their civill swords, who should be owners,
And who Lords over all, turn'd against their own lives,
First in their rage consum'd the Ship,
That poor part of the Ship that scap't the first wracke,
Next their lives by heaps; O be you wise and carefull:
La-m.
Wee'le ha more: Sirah, come show it.
Fran.
Or ten times worse afflictions then thou speak'st of.
Alb.
Nay, and ye will be Doggs.
beats 'em out.
Tib.
Let me come Captaine:
This Golden age must have an Iron ending.
Have at the bunch.
he beats 'em off. Exit.
Amint.
O Albert; O Gentlemen; O friends.
Exit.
Sebast.
Come noble Nephew, if we stay here, we dye,
Here rides their Ship, yet all are gone toth' spoyle,
Let's make a quick use.
Nicus.
Away deer Uncle.
Sebast.
This Gold was our overthrow.
Exit.
Nicus.
It may now be our happinesse.
Enter Tibalt and the rest.
Tib.
You shall have gold: yes, I'le crambe it int'ee;
You shall be your own carvers; yes, I'le carve ye.
Morill.
I am sore, I pray heare reason:
Tib.
I'le heare none.
Covetous base mindes have no reason;
I am hurt my self; but whil'st I have a Legge left,
I will so haunt your guilded soules; how dee Captain?
Ye bleed apace, curse on the causers ont;
Ye doe not faint?
Alb.
No, no; I am not so happy.
Tib.
D'ee howle, nay, ye deserve it:
Base greedy rogues; come, shall we make an end of 'em?
Alb.
They are our country-men, for heavens sake spare em,
Alas, they are hurt enough: & they relent now.
Aminta above.
Amint.
O Captain, Captain.
Alb.
Whose voyce is that?
Tib.
The Ladies.
Amint.
Look Captain, look; ye are undone: poore Captain,
We are all undone: all, all: we are all miserable,
Mad wilfull men; ye are undone, your ship, your Ship.
Alb.
What of her?
Amint.
Shee's under Sayle and floating;
See where she flies: see to your shames, you wretches:
Those poor starv'd things, that shewed you Gold.
La-m. and Franvile goes up to see the Ship.
1 Saylor.
They have cut the Cables,
And got her out; the tyde too has befrinded em.
Mast.
Where are the Saylors that kept her?
Boatsw.
Here, here in the mutiny, to take up mony,
And left no creature, left the Boat a shoare too,
This Gold, this damn'd enticing Gold.
2 Saylor.
How the wind drives her,
5
La-m.
Come back good old men:
Fran.
Good honest men, come back.
Tib.
The winds against ye, speak lowder;
La-m.
Ye shall have all your Gold againe: they see us.
Tib.
Hold up your hands, and kneele,
And houle ye blockheads; they'le have compassion on ye;
Yes, yes, 'tis very likely: ye have deserv'd it,
D'ee look like Doggs now?
Are your mighty courages abated?
Alb.
I bleed apace Tibalt:
Tib.
Retire Sir; and make the best use of our miseries.
They but begin now.
Enter Aminta;
Amint.
Are ye alive still?
Alb.
Yes sweet.
Tib.
Help him off Lady;
And wrap him warme, in your Armes,
Here's something that's comfortable; off with him handsomely,
Il'e come to ye straight: but vex these rascals a little.
Exit Albert Aminta.
Fran.
Oh! I am hungry, & hurt, and I am weary.
Tib.
Here's a Pestle of a Portigue, Sir;
'Tis excellent meat, with soure sauce;
And here's two Chaines, suppose 'em Sausages;
Then there wants Mustar'd.
But the fearefull Surgeon will supply ye presently:
La-m.
O for that Surgeon, I shall dye else.
Tib.
Faith, there he lies in the same pickle too.
Surg.
My salves, and all my Instruments are lost;
And I am hurt, and starv'd;
Good Sir, seeke for some Hearbs.
Tib.
Here's Hearbe gracelesse; will that serve?
Gentlemen, will ye goe to Supper!
All.
Where's the meat?
Tib.
Where's the meat? what a Veale voyce is there?
Fran.
Would we had it Sir, or any thing else;
Tib.
I would now cut your throat you Dogge,
But that I wo not doe you such a curtesie;
To take you from the benefit of starving.
O! what a comfort will your worship have, some three dayes hence?
Yea things beneath pitty shall be your harbinger;
You must not look for down-beds here,
Nor Hangings; though I could wish ye strong on's;
Yet here be many lightsome coole Star-chambers,
Open to every sweet ayre, I'le assure ye,
Ready provided for ye, and so I'le leave ye;
Your first course is serv'd, expect the second.
Exit.
Fran.
A vengeance on these Jewels.
La-m.
O! this cursed Gold.
Exeunt.
| The Sea Voyage | |